


Her Micah

by GarbageFanfics



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Motherly love, Platonic Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20618552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarbageFanfics/pseuds/GarbageFanfics
Summary: Shadow Weaver reflects on her life and her thoughts of her first favorite student.





	Her Micah

The vail was meant to draw the focus to her eyes—only her eyes and the discipline they were emanating through her pupils. All her students looked at her directly in her eyes as she spoke to them. She would watch their eyes and how their bodies would tense or jolt when they heard her words. She could tell by her gaze all she needed to know about them. The lack of interest in their eyes was all she needed to dismiss them—any lack of contact was telling her. She knew how to pick her students. But she was much fairer than any other sorcerer. She did not choose only those with direct talent, nor did she only focus on the sorcerer with a bloodline of pure talent. No—she focuses on the “everyman” the potential of all her students, weak, old, dense, and foolish, she gained their adoration. But the eyes of her fellow members could look into her eyes and all she could see was unease, a lack of trust in her words and an approval sense of their own superiority. 

She hated them for it.

But, not her students. 

Especially not her prized one—Micah. Born from a powerful bloodline, he and his younger sister were destined for a powerful place in the Gild.

This boy was talented and also sweet and humble. He looked into her eyes with respect and adoration. It never once faded from his face.

Even after the incident that changed their lives forever—she cupped the side of his the face and he looked at her—fearing her disapproval—scared for her—wanting her to go back to normal. Those eyes made her retreat into the darkness and not harm him. If she took him away from this world at that moment—she would never see those eyes again and that would kill her.

Years later mask was now what covered her eyes. In her prime youth, she was an attractive woman—sadly not friendly enough in some men’s eyes to marry but enough to gawk at. Her mask was terrifying—her hair floated above her neckline, opposite to the long thick hair to let herself wear down. She had a habit of making children cry and other Horde members tremble in fear. The only one she wised feared her was Lord Hordak, but he remained indifferent to her. Unimpressed almost by her inability to bring him to a quick victory like she had promised him.

She was informed Micah became head Sorcerer and saw as a scout had taken photos of him from one of the missions to Brightmoon. He grew tall, strong, he was sporting a beard now and it made look more mature. She smiled behind her mask when she thought of what a baby-face he still had. 

Such a handsome young man. He would make a great husband. She always imagined he would be the type to date an older woman. Perhaps one of the elite female sorcerers or someone in Mystacor who was sweet and kind to him. A woman that would adore hi was the only woman worthy of him in her eyes. Behind her mask, she smiled at the man he had become. 

During this time, she became distant and unwilling to engage with others. The obnoxious rumors that she was disfigured under her mask had gotten under her skin in a way that shouldn’t be possible. 

Those feelings were replaced with a new sense of purpose among the Horde as an orphaned baby girl because of her newest muse. A perfect child with blonde hair and blues eyes. No child in Mystacor was as beautiful as this child was. She named her _Adora_. A name she would have given her own child if she was lucky enough to marry and be happy—like she once thought she would be.

A new rumor had come in that Micah was to marry the Queen of Brightmoon. Shadow Weaver examined her photos. An Angelic being. How rare. She was right about him choosing an older woman after all. Her smile faded when she looked at Angella. Tall, beautiful, distinctive eyes, a dominating presence. Micah did have a type for sure when it came to the woman. She wanted to take credit for his good taste as she felt Angella and her were on equal levels of beauty and power at one point. She should adore him, she better love him. Micah was too perfect for her. A Queen or not, Angella better be good to him, he only deserves the best.

She was proud again in him—he had now made himself the most powerful man in Etheria. A king and a head Sorcerer. 

She knew this was no power move on his part. Judging by the look in their eyes through these photos it was love. Micah must have fallen for her as did she. It only made sense, of course, he would be lucky enough to fall in love with a powerful woman and be loved back. He had that effect on people. People just loved. 

On another note, she made sure none of the propaganda pictures depicted Micah in any way—Angella was the only one reserved for that treatment.

Adora had the same eyes Micah did. So full of interest and determination. She could make the child’s eyes brighten and make her smile. She also could be cruel and bring her to tears and bring fear into her eyes. An effect she had on all children. Worse one was the feline hybrid Adora grew fond of. Her eyes were of those of her once doubters. Judging, scheming, and disgusting. Just from looking into the young Catra’s eyes she knew this child would be trouble. Sadly, just like Micah, Adora couldn’t see who was trouble for her. 

As time went on Adora was shaping into exactly like Micah but most importantly she was everything Shadow Weaver wanted in a student and a child. She would bring the Horde to victory and Shadow Weaver would rule Etheria. 

All was going well with this until she received news from the organized battle Brightmoon ordered upon the Horde in the Whispering Woods. It was a victory—with high damage to the Horde’s robots and tanks but it was still a win as the forces of the Rebellion did retreat. One Force Captain was stupid enough to proudly boast.

“We had taken out the king, Commander”

Shadow Weaver stepped away from the Black Garnet with disbelieve. Her mask hid her pain but her scowling shadow powers showed discontent towards the force captain. 

“Was a body recovered?” Shadow Weaver asked. Hoping it would be a yes so, she could see her favorite student one last time and give him a proper burial.

The force captain replied, “We have no corpse and one of his soldiers retreated with his staff, all the remains Are his helmet and—”

Shadow Weaver cut him off “Bring those to me”

The force captain complied. 

It was several days later until anyone had really seen Shadow Weaver. Some assumed she was celebrating victory in private in her own way. In reality, she mourned. 

Angella got him killed. That coward! She could have fought in battles but instead, she stayed locked in her glamorous castle while she wasted the talents of Micah. 

He was a loose to Etheria and to her.

She would never forgive the Rebellion for what they took from her. 

Her Micah deserved better.


End file.
